The Lawyer's Office on Circle Ridge
by Lichanura
Summary: A one-sided Naru-Mitsu story featuring a very yandere Phoenix. Based on mothy's "The Tailor of Enbizaka Street." It's got implied violence, strong language, and mature themes  though no sex , so I put M to be safe.
1. Prologue: The Edgeworth Wright Wedding

Author's Note: So lately I've been listening to some songs from the Evil's Kingdom album by mothy and for some reason when I heard "The Tailor of Enbizaka Street," I immediately thought "Naru-Mitsu." If you haven't listened to the song, this might not make as much sense to you, but maybe you'll be surprised by the ending? I hope so.

Phoenix seems terribly out of character sometimes here, but please imagine that it's just because he's crazy. This is my first fic and it's unbeta'd (OTL). It's very short too, but please overlook that. I rated it M for implied violence and strong-ish language (I have a filthy mouth, I'm sorry for that too).

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><p><strong>Prologue: The EdgeworthWright Wedding**

It was still early in the afternoon, but Miles and Phoenix had run out of games. Sitting in the grass of the play park, Miles was engaged in the process of naming out every game he could think of and Phoenix was shooting every single one down.

"House?" He asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

"We played that yesterday. We even played it so long we both got to be the Dad." Phoenix didn't even look up from poking that worm with a stick.

"Restaurant?"

"We played that Tuesday, you made sushi."

"Doctor?"

"We got in trouble for that last time."

Miles was running out of ideas quickly. Sure he was a precocious 8, but even genius 8-year-olds only have so much creativity. Fortunately for him, Phoenix seemed to have an idea of his own.

"Let's get married," he said, "If my moms can do it, it's ok for us too isn't it?"

Miles pondered this for a minute. If Ms. Roc and Ms. Xenia were both girls and they were allowed to marry, basic fairness dictates that two boys should also be allowed to marry. He nodded in agreement.

"Ok Phoenix, let's get married." Overjoyed, Phoenix slipped a ring made of grass onto Miles' finger and ran home to get his dog, Pace, to be the best man.

Phoenix took promises like marriage very seriously.

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><p>AN: Sooo short (orz) I promise the next chapter will be longer.


	2. Chapter 1: A Broken Promise

**Chapter 1: A Broken Promise**

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><p>Over the years, Phoenix's initial friendship with Miles had blossomed into something more. Through his tireless efforts, the other man's wall was beginning to drop and they quickly became more than friends. Of course, they had already been married for many years now, but Miles seemed finally ready to consummate those vows. After saving the man from himself time and again (not to mention saving him from other people once or twice), it was only natural that he would warm up to the other man, right? To hear Phoenix tell it, they were the happiest couple in town. He was always full of stories about the adorable thing his fair-haired lover had done this time, they were so lovey-dovey that it literally made people sick.<p>

Or so it had seemed. The truth was that, even though they were so in love, Miles rarely-if ever-came home. After all Phoenix had done for him, Miles still treated his husband like dirt. It just wasn't fair. They were in love right? So why was Miles always out at all hours of the day and night? And why did Phoenix always see him accompanied by some new boy-toy?

Phoenix fumed. He could forgive youthful indiscretion, but they were nearing 30 and they had a daughter to think of for Christ's sake. But no, thanks to Miles' staying out all night every night, Trucy barely even knew her other daddy. Even if Phoenix had been reduced from lawyer to community theater actor, there was still no excuse for his husband's infidelity. After all, Phoenix had won the crowning role in the latest play, so he could be sleeping with Macbeth instead of some random pretty boy. Miles didn't even seem to care about all the work it had taken to get that part. It was time to get the man to settle down and start taking a greater role in his family's life.

With that in mind, Phoenix told Trucy to finish her homework and stormed off to the prosecutor's office to teach his lover a lesson.

While he was stomping furiously down the road to the building, he heard a soft voice on the wind. If it were any other sound he would have missed it entirely in his rage, but he could never mistake the soft, velvety voice of his beloved Miles. Even with all that had come between them, he loved that voice so much.

Creeping behind a trash-bin in the alley the voice had come from, Phoenix was able to spot his husband, just standing around in the middle of a crime scene, giving hushed orders to another man. The booming reply told him all he needed to know; Miles Edgeworth was cheating on him with Detective Dick Gumshoe. '_Disgusting_,' Phoenix thought as garbage-water seeped into the hem of his jeans, '_he's so hungry for sex that he has to force himself on his subordinates.' _

Cautiously, so as to avoid the notice of the two _lovebirds_, Phoenix leaned around the can to watch them. He watched Miles boss the detective around for a minute, before planting a hand firmly on the man's coat. Of course, why hadn't he realized it before? It's not the detective Miles likes, it's the _coat_!

Phoenix understands how important proper dress is to a man like Miles Edgeworth, but he's also discovered that the man can be just as interested in shabby clothes. After all, he's seen the magazines that Miles has delivered 'discreetly' to his second home (where he apparently thinks Phoenix won't find them) and they have lots of scantily-clad boys on the cover, usually dressed down much more than Miles himself. Phoenix had even stolen his new hoodie-and-jeans combo from the cover of one of those magazines, but a fat lot of good it did him. Looks like Miles is only interested in trenchcoats. If only Phoenix could get his hands on one somehow. But money was tight right now and coats like that cost so much; maybe someday after he gets his badge back he'll be able to get a nice coat and win back Miles' heart.

He considered jumping out from behind the bins and catching Miles red-handed in his infidelity. The look on the man's face would have certainly been delicious, but he doubted that Detective Gumshoe even knew Miles was married. It wouldn't be fair to call the man a homewrecker if he didn't know he was wrecking someone's home. But even if Gumshoe did know about Phoenix, he still could hardly be blamed for giving in to desire for Miles. The man was gorgeous and (probably) a great lay. No, it wouldn't be right to embarrass the detective over this; Phoenix would just have to wait until he could get Miles alone to let his anger out. He would talk to the detective later, in a more private setting, and remind him about the boundaries of marriage.

It was at approximately that point that he realized he was late for rehearsal so he had to quietly duck out from behind the bins and rush away, jeans still soaked through with rancid water. After all, they were practicing the murder scene today, it wouldn't do to be late for the crucial bit.


	3. Chapter 2: A Kinky Bit

A/N: This one is so short. I'm really sorry for it! OTL

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: A Kinky Bit<strong>

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><p>The next day at rehearsals, Phoenix had been handed just the break he needed. The director decided that they wanted to take Macbeth in a more modern direction, and for that Phoenix needed this new trenchcoat they found on the steps of the theater that morning. The costume designer washed it thoroughly, the director had assured him, so there was no harm in just trying it on. Clearly it was meant to be a donation anyway.<p>

It was undeniably large on him, but the costume designer tailored it to his size while they were working on the scene so that by the time rehearsals were over, it fit Phoenix like a glove. Suddenly he realized it was just what he needed to get Miles' eyes back on him, so he was all too happy when the director agreed to let him take it home. He needed it, after all, to "get into character" with the new, grittier Macbeth. He wondered who the previous owner could have been, something about it had seemed so familiar, but one doesn't look a gift horse in the mouth; particularly when that horse is precisely what one needs to cross Miles Edgeworth's finish line. That analogy didn't even make sense, but Phoenix no longer cared. He had what he needed now.

He had decided. once he got the trenchocoat on, that it was time to visit Miles and see what he thought of his new look. But he only has to make it as far as the bridge over the creek in the park before he finds his lover, standing beside some woman. Their backs are turned, so they didn't notice him ducking behind a nearby tree. From this distance, he can't hear their conversation but he can see the way Miles looks at her. And when she turns his way, he can see that the "her" is Franziska von Karma.

For a moment, he's able to convince himself that they're just a brother and sister out enjoying the late spring weather and that there's nothing going on between them, but then Franziska brings out her whip and, for a moment, a slight grin crosses Miles' face.

_'Disgusting'_, Phoenix thought, '_he can't even keep his filthy hands off his own sister._' Not only that, but Miles had never told him he wasn't gay. Even if he was bisexual, that's still the kind of thing that you should tell your lover right? Especially if you're getting so desperate for feminine contact that you're fucking your sister.

Phoenix's attention was brought back to the bridge by the sharp crack of a whip, still audible even at this distance. Miles seemed to be softly laughing when she brought the whip down ageist his arm. Normally Phoenix would have assumed that he was just laughing because it was Franziska's normal mannerism to whip first and ask questions later, but given all that he had seen there was no other conclusion than that Miles was a masochist who was enjoying the attentions from his sister's whip.

If only Phoenix had a whip like Franziska's, he could make Miles that happy, he was sure of it. He'd have to ask Franziska for whip lessons later, when he could get her away from Miles. It wouldn't do to make a scene right now since he would need her help later, so he got on his bike and rode off in the direction that he had come, making a mental note to remind both Franziska and Miles about what marriage means once he gets each of them alone.


	4. Chapter 3: The Worst Betrayal

**Chapter 3: The Worst Betrayal**

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><p>As Phoenix walked home from rehearsal the next evening, he was in a soaring mood. Someone had left a new donation on the steps of the theater and, since Phoenix had been extremely early for some reason, he was the one who found it. This time the present was a real leather whip. Something about it had seemed vaguely familiar, so Phoenix decided he should keep it. '<em>Maybe he could look for the owner and thank them for the donations<em>,' his brain said. '_Or maybe he could just use it to get Miles in bed_,' came the answer from his dick, already heating up at the thought of finally consummating his marriage. He shoved the whip hastily in his messenger bag and didn't breathe a word of it until rehearsal was over and he was heading home.

But when he actually arrived, his mood was killed when he saw a note on the door in a little girl's chunky penmanship.

_"Daddy, I'm going to talk to 'Other Daddy'. I'm going to go tell him to stop making you sad. - Trucy."_

The bottom dropped out of Phoenix's stomach. Trucy is not even 10, she could be kidnapped or murdered or hit by a car or thrown off a bridge or poisoned by a redhead or any number of horrible things that could happen to a little girl walking alone. Frantically, he pulls his cell out of his bag and dials the number for Trucy's emergency phone.

Unbelievable relief flooded through him when a small voice answered with a timid "Sorry, Daddy." He just barely manages to choke out a response through the flood of tears that are prickling the corners of his eyelids, when suddenly he hears another voice behind her, a man's voice, Miles' voice. Static and a few thumps come through the earpiece as Trucy hands over the phone.

"Wright, you really shouldn't allow your daughter to leave your poor excuse for a home unsupervised. Downtown can be quite dangerous. I knew you were irresponsible, but if I had known it was this bad, I'd have taken the girl myself." He practically melts at that voice; it's the first time in so long that it's actually been directed at him. Even if he sounds angry, he can't really be. They're in love after all.

Somehow, though he's weak in the knees, Phoenix manages to ask where they are and when he can come get his little girl. In clipped tones, Miles informs him that they are at a cafe not far from the prosecutor's office, Wright may come get his daughter at any point and that, when he arrives, he will be paying the bill for his daughter's ice cream. When he realizes that this is as close to an invitation to a date at the cafe as he is going to get from closed-off Miles, Phoenix nearly faints.

"YesokI'llbetherebye" he nearly shouts, slamming the phone closed and practically running for his bike. He even forgot the trenchcoat in his haste, but with the way Miles spoke he might not even need it.

As he sped down the street, however, he realized that there was something in the way that he spoke to Trucy too. That son of a bitch really is heartless, is there anything _or anyone _he won't do? There's lying about being gay and then there's being a goddamn pedophile and Miles was leaning creepily towards the latter right now.

And then there's Trucy, hadn't he taught her about boundaries? About places not to let strangers touch? He supposes part of it is his fault, he always used to wax lyrical about how wonderful Miles was, it must have been only natural for her to want to get to know him too. But still, she should have understood that Miles belonged to him. Miles was his husband; he couldn't believe his own daughter refused to respect that. He would have to give her a stern talking-to when they got home.

But, he realized after he cooled down a little, he didn't even have any proof that his husband was seducing Trucy. That's a hefty accusation to make against his little girl, he needs to be absolutely sure that the scenario being played out in his mind is actually happening. The cafe was coming into sight down the road so he locked his bike to a sign and ducked behind the cars on the opposite side of the road, slinking from one to the other in order to avoid being seen by the couple seated _al fresco_. If they caught him, they'd start acting normally and then he'd never know for sure.

When he reached a point close enough to see them properly, he bent down and pretended to tie his lace-less shoes to ward off passers-by. Peering around a hubcap (why was he peering around stuff so much lately?) he saw them together, his daughter and his lover. It looked innocent enough, but then he saw Miles pluck a flower from the bush behind them and place it tenderly in the band to Trucy's tophat with a little flourish. _The whore_, Phoenix ground his teeth. After a moment of reflection, he was frightened to find that he wasn't sure who he meant with that epithet. True Miles had seduced a child, but she wasn't stopping him. No, it wasn't fair to blame Trucy. This was all Miles' fault, the bastard. He didn't want to vent his spleen in such a public place, but the next time he got the man alone, he would let him have it to be sure. He'd also have to give Trucy that stern talking-to he promised himself earlier.

Just as Phoenix was getting up to grab his daughter away from that dirtbag, she produced her little magic panties and he was forced to sit back down to watch Miles' reaction. Even at the slightest bit of prestidigitation, the man clapped far too enthusiastically and smiled far too broadly. '_That must be it_,' Phoenix thought, '_he really just likes her magic tricks, he doesn't love her.'_ He couldn't believe that Miles was just using his little girl for sex and entertainment, but it's not like the man could do anything but use people. He was, doubtless, an unbelievable bastard.

Finally straightening up and crossing the street, it takes all his control to maintain a calm and casual conversation with the adulterous pair. He'd love to call them out on their flirtations, he'd love to stand here in the middle of the street and scream accusations all day, but he can't. He can't let them know that he's on to them yet, Trucy still needs to teach him how to do that trick.


	5. Chapter 4: I'm Pretty Aren't I?

WARNING: SUM OF DIS CHAPTA IS XTREMLY SCRAY. VIOWER EXCRETION ADVISD.

Seriously though, there's actual violence ahead. If that's not your thing, turn back now. You can still pretend Phoenix isn't crazy.

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: What Do You Think? I'm Pretty Aren't I?<strong>

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><p>Miles Edgeworth wasn't the type to drink usually, but the past few days had really called for a nice glass of scotch. As he walked over to his slightly-dusty liquor shelf, he couldn't avoid noticing the pale yellow folders on his desk, reminding him of precisely why he needed this drink. 3 murders in as many days would be enough to shake anyone, but the fact that he had seen each of the victims shortly before their deaths was more than enough to destroy any sense of tranquility he might otherwise have had. He sincerely hoped that it had been coincidence and that LA didn't have a serial killer on its hands, but evidence was stacking up against that theory, particularly in light of the fact that each of the victims had the word "LIAR" carved somewhere on their bodies. Not only that, the murderer seemed to have taken souvenirs, a sure sign of a serial killer.<p>

Taking a bracing sip from the tumbler, he opened each of the folders in turn. Detective Dick Gumshoe, his longtime subordinate and something approaching a best friend. Franziska von Karma, the closest thing to family that he had ever had. And the one that didn't fit quite as well, Trucy Wright. At first he had thought that the killer was targeting people close to him, but then why kill a little girl he barely knows? He takes another sip as he thinks. If there is a logic to this killer's actions, he just can't see it.

He remembers telling Wright that his daughter had been murdered, remembers the sudden lack of emotion in Wright's voice, remembers how much more concerned the man had been with Miles' reaction to the murder than the details of the murder itself. It was certainly suspicious, but in his life Miles has seen as many reactions to the news of a child's death as he has bereaved parents; he's not sure there exists any sort of "guilty" reaction. If anything, the murderous ones act the most upset, trying to wash away their guilt in a river of tears.

Lost in his musings, Miles barely notices the small but insistent tapping on his door. Once it finally breaks into his consciousness however, he sets down his glass and gets up slowly to answer it. He leaves the safety chain on as he opened the door just a crack, one can never be too careful.

"How can I help you?" He asks through the slot.

"It's me, Miles. Do you mind if I come in?" It's Wright, probably looking for some comfort after the loss of his daughter. He had figured the other man would go to Kurain before coming here. And since when were they on a first name basis? Even still, he can't exactly tell a grieving father to just go away. He undoes the chain and lets his childhood friend in.

"Thank God you're finally home, you changed the locks and I couldn't find the Hide-A-Key and so I ended up waiting in the bushes for you, but I must have fallen asleep because I missed your actual arrival. Sorry for that, I should have been able to greet you at the door." Wright blows past him into the foyer, babbling. Before Miles can confront him about what he's just implied, however, he's stunned into silence by what the man is _wearing_. A trenchcoat is draped over his figure and he has a bloody pair of ladies' undergarments attached to one hip and a whip on the other. Wait a moment, a whip? That can't be... He picks up the phone, beginning to dial Gumshoe on instinct, but the lack of dial tone revealed that someone had cut the line.

"Look Miles, I have everything now. I can be the person you want. I have the trenchcoat that you like and the whip that turns you on. I even got Trucy to teach me a magic trick. It's perfect isn't it? I'm perfect for you." There's a frightening gleam in the man's eye as he presses closer to Miles.

"It was you, wasn't it? That killed Gumshoe and Franziska and... God, Wright you killed your own daughter?" He hits the back of the couch before he even realizes he had been backing up.

"She was the hardest, you know. She kept looking up at me with those poor, innocent little eyes. But I had to do it. She wouldn't stop lying about your relationship. She told me right to my face that you never touched her because you made her say that. You made them all say that. Made them into liars. Look what you made me do!" He yells, brandishing the blood-stained panties in Miles' face. "Ah, but for my Jason, I'll happily play Medea." He was muttering now, turned away and quivering slightly.

"But look!" Wright cried suddenly and pushed the underwear back into the other man's face, causing Miles to jump a dozen feet, "She taught me a new trick before she passed away. Let me show you!" Reaching into the panties with much aplomb, Wright pulls out a knife covered in dried blood.

"It's a present, for you. Because you're so beautiful. I want you to love me forever Miles, because you promised to. Remember? You told me back then that you would love and cherish and protect me forever, but then you went away. But I found you again and we can be together now, so it's ok." Wright is slowly advancing on him with the knife and Miles is panicking. "Don't cry, please don't cry, you can't be sad anymore, we're together now."

The last thing Miles feels before the sharp pain in his stomach is a feather-light kiss on his lips.

"I love you so much Miles" is all he hears before things fade to black.


	6. Epilogue: Visiting Hours

A/N: Short. Short. Short. I'm sorry. OTL

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><p><strong>Epilogue: Visiting Hours<strong>

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><p>The ride from Kurain to the city is 2 hours by train and it's another 45 minutes on a complicated bus route to get from the train station to the hospital, but Maya can't just not go. Phoenix asked for her by name. Well, that's not exactly true; he really asked for Pearly by name, but Maya's not about to let Pearly pay a visit to an institute for the criminally insane by herself. Or at all.<p>

It sounds so harsh, the term "criminally insane." Nick is many things, but he's not a criminal. She knows that Nick didn't mean to do those things. He didn't want to kill anyone, it's not his fault, he's sick and doesn't know any better. But the judge wouldn't listen, and now Nick's stuck in that awful place for the rest of his life.

When she's seated in front of the pane of glass in the visitor's room and they bring Phoenix out, Maya is shocked by how little difference there is between him and the Nick of her memory. She's not sure what she had been expecting, perhaps a pale face hidden behind drooping spikes, but this Nick looks vibrant and so happy just like he did in those days before he lost his badge. She was told that he looked happy when he was cradling Prosecutor Edgeworth's dead body too, that he had been smiling and laughing when they took him away.

He does frown a little, however, when he peers through the glass.

"You didn't bring Pearls," he says gloomily.

"I'm sorry Nick, she wasn't feeling well today." They probably took his Magatama, so there's no harm in a little white lie. "Why did you want to see her so badly?"

"Because she would understand. She would make everyone else understand. I had to do whatever it took to be with my special someone."


End file.
